How things change
by obsesser1078
Summary: Draco Malfoy is faced with several hard choices. Will he choose to fallow in his father's footsteps of forge his own way...Not as bad as it sounds I hop .
1. Chapter 1

A.N: I own nothing.

Draco Malfoy spent a large portion of his time thinking. In class, at meals, on the train, at home, he thought about his family, a father in Azkaban and a mother who'd run off to France or Germany or the states, as far away as she could get. He thought about his falling grades, he wondered if Pansy had any real interest in him or if she just slept with him for his money and statues, he thought about Potter's golden trio and why they always seemed so damned happy. All of these thoughts eventually boiled down to the same thing: what the hell was he going to do with his future?

School had let out over a week ago. He had spent all but two of the days alone wondering Malfoy manor with only the silent army of house elves. Narcissa had abandon her family home, preferring to traipse around out of the country with other men and strangers while her husband tried to fight his imprisonment.

"Young Master Malfoy, breakfast is ready," an old house elf informed, bowing so low his long pointed nose nearly scraped the polished wooden floors of the manor's din.

Draco was lounging across a silk, claw footed, sofa his feet resting atop one armrest as the other supported his head. Light was streaming in through the high skylights highlighting the warm, pail, summer colors of the room. The young man raised to a sitting position and waved the elf away.

It was with an air of utter boredom that he ambled away from his place of leisure. It took several moments to navigate through the polished marble hallways of his home to arrive in the large family dining room.

He'd been up for nearly an hour, all of which he had spent lazily. The long mahogany table, able to seat twenty-six comfortably, had only one place set on the left side near the end. It seemed wrong, even when he was alone, to sit at ether head of the table. Two glasses, one of orange juice the other milk, were placed above the plate filled with two eggs, sunny side up, six peaces of bacon next to them. A single slice of toast, already lightly buttered, on a separate plate next to a small bowl of yogurt. That mornings _Daily Prophet_ lay next to his morning meal, folded neatly for him.

Taking his seat Draco dismissed the small party of elves that stood bowing to him as he entered. A sip of milk and a bite of toast later he was flicking open the paper to the front page. That mornings headlines were enough to have him placing his toast back on its plate. _Azkaban break out: four escape_. He skimmed the article until he found the only thing in it that held any interest to him, near the bottom of the front page was a list of those who had escaped: Yaxley, Fenrir Greyback, Lucius Malfoy, and Alecto Carrow. He couldn't say he was surprised. His father, at least, had been awaiting rescue for over a month and a half.

Putting the paper down he tried to decipher how he felt about this new occurrence. His father was out of prison, though not free, now in hiding somewhere by the Dark Lord's side, he wouldn't be returning home. His mother, most likely, wouldn't have heard the news wherever she was and wouldn't be in any rush to get back to the Manor. That would leave him alone to clean up after Lucius before the Aurors broke down the door demanding to search the estate.

"Dixey," he called to the empty room.

The old house elf who had informed him of his meal being ready only minutes ago, appeared out of thin air next to his chair a little more then arms length away. "Yes, Young Master?" the elf bowed.

"We may be having Ministry company later, see to it all of Father's unsavory possessions are hidden," the young blond commanded. He would do a thorough check later to ensure the stupid creatures hadn't missed anything. He estimated the Aurors would be barging in just before lunch...

Draco's educated guess proved to be correct. It was approximately an hour and half before lunch would normally be served when a loud thud echoed from the manor's entryway. Draco had been lounging around in the sunroom out back when he heard it. He took his time getting to the door, knowing one of the elves would answer the call.

The whole Ministry was in even more of an up roar than usual these days, but the Auror department was perhaps the most tense section of the organization. The escape had taken place at, close to, 2 o'clock that morning as far as they could determine. The Dementors had left the place not long after Voldemort's return, leaving the Auroras to staff the prison. Three wizards on duty last night had been killed in the escape.

Kingsley Shacklebolt, Auror second class, was caught up in the fast planing and near panic of his department. He was currently going over some of the records of the prisoners, not that he didn't know most of it already.

"Shacklebolt!" The head of the department called him out, stalking over to his desk. "Round up a team. I need you to head up the search of Lucius Malfoy's house," he ordered shoving a warrant into his hands.

The overly fit man's heavy voice and red face demanded that he not be questioned. Nodding sharply, Kingsley got to his feet, his red Auror robes fluttering around him. Normally Kingsley would have pointed out that a search was probably a waste of time, but at the moment a long shot like that was all they had. He assembled a team of fifteen to accompany him including, Luther whales, Rita Farnsworth, and Paul Young, whom he had worked with throughout his whole career and trusted whole heartedly.

The party of Auror apparted to just outside the Malfoy Manor wards. Over the years nearly every Auror in the department had visited the manor for some, work related, reason. As a pack of professionals they marched through the apparation wards and up to the front door some ways away. The door was large made of thick, dark, wood, which, Kingsley was sure, was magically reinforced.

Luther was the one who stepped forward and pounded on the door, using every ounce of his, considerable, strength. Just as he was about to repeat the process the oversized passage cracked open. A short, particularly, wrinkly house elf stood before them.

"Yes, Sirs?" the creature questioned.

"We're from the Ministry. May he speak with the current head of house?" Kingsley inquired, knowing full well that demanding the elf let them in wouldn't get them anywhere without his master's permission, warrant or not.

"Blinksy, is not to disturb the young master," the creature stammered.

Before they could argue farther the elf spun quickly on its heels and went into a low bow before evaporating. A pail hand gripped the edge of the door wrenching it open wider. A young boy stood behind it, Draco Malfoy, age sixteen, only son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, Kingsley assumed having read the family's file, though he had never actually met the boy.

"Can I help you?" The boy asked, his voice was held at a normal volume and he seemed altogether relaxed. He was dressed simply in gray slacks and white button down shirt, with the top button undone.

"Are ether of your parents home?" Kingsley wandered, knowing Lucius wouldn't be here.

"They're out, I'm afraid," Draco smiled at the flock of hostile Aurors.

"We have a warrant granting us permission to search this residence," their leader informed the youth.

"Well, by all means do come in." Draco stepped aside letting the small battalion file in.

As he barked orders to the other Aurors Kingsley noticed that the young Malfoy stood back, close to the wall as if trying to stay out of their way. Even with his hands in his pockets the boy managed to have immaculate posture and seemed to retain the air of nobility that the Auror had noticed he carried. Finally, after sending the others of to scour the home, Kingsley walked over to the boy.

"I'm afraid I'll have to ask you a few questions," he tried to make his voice softer than its usual low rumble, in an attempt to show the boy sympathy.

Draco smiled again, in that disconcertingly charming way that made the hairs on the back of the Auror's neck stand on end. "Of course. Perhaps we should adjourn to the din first?" It was a statement posing as a question and Kingsley was tempted to begin the interrogation right there but he didn't want the boy any edgier then had to be. At least not yet. Nodding shortly, he allowed the youth to lead him down a wide hallway to a large open room, where Draco had lounged that morning.

Gesturing to a large armchair Draco moved to sit himself on the same claw footed sofa he had occupied before breakfast. Kingsley took the offered seat, watching the boy's every movement.

"So, what can I do for you?" the blond queried, watching the Auror just as closely.

"Just some simple questions to start with. Your name, first?" The Auror asked.

Draco raised a platinum eyebrow and smiled as if he thought that was a rather moronic question. He answered anyway, voice as polite as when he had greeted them, "Draco Malfoy."

Kingsley stopped himself from nodding as his thoughts were confirmed. "And where are your parents, Draco?"

If the use of his first name bothered the boy, as Kingsley suspected it did, he didn't show it. "My mother is away in France at the moment, visiting friends and of course I haven't a clue as to my father's whereabouts," he answered coolly.

"Of course," Kingsley agreed, though his gut protested that the boy was lying, he couldn't see any outward signs to support his feeling. He studied the boy closely, noting the almost unnatural stillness about him, every movement seemed measured and planed out. The boy's eyes were like two steel traps clamped shut on any emotion that might have betrayed him, making him appear cold. "When was the last time you had contact your father?" The Auror persisted though he was beginning to see why no one bothered to question the boy in the past.

"He had his lawyer deliver a letter to me just after his arrest," Draco told him honestly.

"And the topic of the letter?" Kingsley tried.

The boy's smile turned patronizing for a brief moment before he answered. "Assurances of his innocence."

Kingsley was almost sure he picked p a note of sarcasm in the boys tone, but he couldn't blame him. The kid wasn't stupid, there was no way he didn't know what his father was. "When will your mother be back from, France you said?"

"Yes. In a few days." Draco kept his answers short.

The Auror studied the young man. He wasn't any older than Harry, who was probably on his way to the Order's head quarters, he'd be furious when he heard new of the break out, but Draco didn't seem to think this was out of the norm. Wanting to get some reaction out of the kid Kingsley said, "Are you aware that three Aurors were killed during the escape?"

Draco blinked once before responding, "I terribly sorry, to both you and there families." His voice dripped with just enough sympathy to make him sound genuine, though his features didn't change to convey the message.

The kid was perfectly sculpted block of ice. Nothing about him was out of place, not a strand of hair or stray thought as far as Kingsley could tell. He sat across from the Auror, not even of age yet, being disarmingly polite and purposefully unhelpful and there wasn't a damned thing he could do about it.

"Draco," Kingsley leaned forward trying to really get the boys attention. "You understand there is war going on right now, don't you?" some emotion passed over the boy's face, it looked for a brief moment like guilt or indecision, then the young Malfoy was back in control, all of his emotions closed tight behind bright silver eyes and a fake smile.

"Yes, Sir. I understand the gravity of what is happening," He said it coolly, his voice staying level but strong.

Nodding Kingsley leaned back intrigued by rise he had gotten, no matter how small. After a few more simple questions Kingsley rose from his seat, Draco seeing this fallowed suit.

"I think thats all of the questions I have at the moment. If anything comes to mind I may drop back in and of course I still need to speak with you mother," Kingsley smiled. "Now if you'll excuse me I must go check on my team." They shook hands briefly before the Auror second class departed to find Rita, who he had put in charge of questioning the house elves.

Draco had missed both lunch and dinner by the time the Aurors were done. They searched every inch of the grounds a dozen times. Every second they spent in the house made him more nervous, by the time they were packing up to leave he was having a hard time keeping the edge out of his voice.

"Thank you for your cooperation today," Kingsley smiled as his team trudged out of the manor after hours wasted.

The Auror second class made him apprehensive. Something about how the man watched him. "Of course, anything I can do to help," Draco offered, though they both knew it was an empty gesture.

Kingsley looked at him again, his gaze hard and assessing, "Take this," he said fishing a card out of his rode pocket, "I case you ever have any questions."

Draco to the card out of politeness, expecting to throw it away as soon as the Auror was gone. "Thank you," he said and they shook hands once more before all of the intruders were finally out of his house.

After watching them go Draco thought it was time to make up for the meals he had missed. Moving to the kitchen dropped the card on the counter expecting one of the house elves to clean it up later.


	2. Chapter 2

Rainy days seemed like such a waste to Harry as he sat at his desk staring out his window. They were two, horrible, weeks into summer the Order of the Phoenix had rescued him from the Dursleys, it was earlier than usual, but the teen wasn't complaining. He'd been brought to the Order's head quarters two days ago where Ron had quickly informed him of the Azkaban escape, he had spent the whole first day seething about the, once again, loose Death Eaters.

Today he had planed to spend the day flying in the back yard with Ron, unfortunately the rain had put a stop to that plan leaving the two boys to mope about inside. Ron was sitting on Harry's bed fiddling with his wand mumbling about having nothing to do.

"How's the joke shop going? Fred and George doing alright?" Harry wondered.

"Yeah, nothing can bring those two down," Ron pouted. "Can't believe it's raining. Aren't there wards or something up to stop it?"

Harry shrugged, trying to keep his mind occupied with anything but the thoughts of his godfather that had plagued him since the incident at the ministry at the end of last year. Ron continued to ramble not realizing his friend had lost interest in what he was saying. Down stairs the sound of voices echoed up to the boy's room n the second floor, it sounded as though other members of the Order were arriving. Looking down at his watch Harry assured himself it was to early for anyone who might be coming to dinner that evening to get here.

Guessing that they were about to have a meeting Harry rose to his feet and crept out of the room and navigated his way down the stairs he didn't notice Ron get up and follow him. They stopped at the top of the stairs, they wouldn't be able to see who was there but could easily ease drop.

"He said he would meet me here," Tonks' voice floated up to them. "he was finishing some report."

"I'm sure he will be here any minute. For now why don't we just sit down and have some tea?" Molly Weasley assured. Harry could imagine her fretting over the other adults like the worried mother she was.

"She's right, besides I doubt Kingsley will be able to tell us much more than we can read in the _prophet_," Remus' soft, tiered voice agreed.

They heard the sounds of tea cups clattering against the table and murmurs of thanks as the beverage was served. It was quiet for a moment after as the Order savored this brief moment of near normalcy.

"So how are the twins?" Remus reiterated Harry's earlier sentiment.

"Good. The shop keeps them busy," Arthur Weasley responded.

"Going to get themselves killed," Molly urged, talking more to herself than anyone.

Silence fell again, this time a bit awkward as no one knew what to say. Finally after the lack of noise was beginning to feel oppressive the sound of the fire roaring to life interrupted it. A chorus of greetings rang out filling the Black house briefly with a welcoming glow.

"Well, Shacklebolt, what have the Aurors come up with?" the snide voice of Severus Snape challenged.

"Let the man get settled, Severus," Molly's order was accompanied by another cup clanging to the table.

"I'm afraid I don't bare good news," Kingsley began. "Where is Albus?" he cut himself off noticing the headmaster's absence.

"Up stairs, should be back by now though," Remus thought.

Panic rippled through the boys at the top of the stairs. Fumbling up from the top step, where they had hidden them selves, they turned around forgetting all about stealth in their rush. Dumbledore stood behind them his eyes twinkling behind half moon glasses.

Ron cursed under his breath realizing they had been caught. Both of the boys looked guiltily down at their feet expecting to be reprimanded.

"Excuse me," the headmaster said, indicating his need to get back down to the kitchen.

The two of them moved quickly out of his way and watched Dumbledore descend, relieved. Ron clinched his jaw hoping the old man wouldn't tell his parents.

"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting," he announced as he entered the kitchen. He closed the doors behind himself and deathly quiet filled the house again as he charmed the door to lock and set up sound barrier.

Kingsley sipped his tea as he watched the head of the Order cast a wordless spell to soundproof the room. Once Molly had refilled everyone's cups the Headmaster smiled across the table at him.

"What news do you have, Kingsley?" he asked pleasantly.

Putting his tea back on the old table in front of him Kingsley regaled the Azkaban investigation so far. He told them of the complete lack of progress, at which Snape sneered. He told them how the families of the dead Aurors were holding up, at Molly's request. Finally he told them about his search of Malfoy Manor and his questioning of Draco Malfoy.

"He was all alone?" Molly gasped, appalled by the lack of supervision.

"How did he react to your search,?" Dumbledore wondered.

"He was extremely polite while we where there and he answered all of my questions," Kingsley recalled the feeling of utter coldness that had filled the house and the twist of his gut that said the boy had lied to him.

Snape was nodding slightly to himself as he observed the conversation. As Draco's godfather he knew the boy well, he would be perpetually unhelpful until things shifted and it became beneficial for him.

"That must be hard," Remus sighed. "Having Death Eater father."

Severus suppressed a snort. What could these people possibly know of what Draco was going through? They didn't understand the choice facing the boy, he doubted Draco had even realized that he had a choice.

"The Dark Lord will take him soon," Snape stated, unsure of his motives behind the action.

Dumbledore turned to him looking grave, "Are you sure?"

"Yes, he's sixteen now that will be old enough, and he will want someone else in the school," Snape answered, aware that Voldemort didn't trust him.

A sad silence filled the room. Severus thought it was a rather stupid of them to care so much for the son of the enemy since none of them had ever taken an interest before.

Kingsley thought back to that second in time during their talk that he had seen Draco's eyes flash with indecision. He wondered if it was really to late for the kid.

"Where the hell is that boy's mother?" Molly demanded.

"France, apparently," Kingsley remembered Draco saying.

"Why doesn't she put a stop to this stupidity?"

This time Severus caught the sound, resembling laughter a little to late. The whole table turned to look at headmaster cast him a sad look of understanding. They had both known Narcissa throughout the years and she was many things: clever, witty, beautiful, funny, driven, she was a woman who enjoyed life. What she was not was a mother, she had always been to free and too selfish to be tied down in one place for long.

Eventually the meeting progressed to other topics and most of the Order managed to forget the unlucky fate of the sixteen year old Malfoy. Severus and Kingsley, however, would be up late into that night thinking about the boy. Wondering what they could do, if anything, to help him.

That same night, as the two men were looking for some for some way to save him, Draco Malfoy was leaving the manor. Following the careful instructions that he had received in a coded letter from his father earlier that day he used the fireplace in the cellar to floo out of the house. His destination was a small shabby, very questionable, shop in Knockturn Ally, from there he turned right back around and flooed to another sight, though this one was unfamiliar.

He stepped out of the unknown fireplace and found himself standing in the parlor of rather well to do household. The furniture was made of expensive materials, the colors were all deep and rich but not oppressive, an exotic rug was splayed over the polished marble floor, it was just a little to cluttered to be tasteful Draco decided. Standing around the room cloaked and masked Death Eaters turned to look at him, there were about fifteen of them, in this room alone. The atmosphere of the room reminded him of the waiting room at St. Mungo's, the thought was enough to bring a light smirk to his lips.

"They're waiting for you," one of the masked men informed him, jerking his head towards the pair of large cherry wood doors across from the fire place.

The light smirk that had graced his features vanished as he recalled the reason for this journey. He had spent the entire day deciding wether or not he should do as his father had told him. This was to be his induction night, he was about to meet the Dark Lord, swear his loyalty to him, and take his mark. A sudden, yet expected, urge to flee came over him. I took every ounce of self control to walk forward towards the door.

The door lead to a narrow, unlit, hallway, the only light emitting from the crack in the door directly across from the room he had just exited. The dull bean of light cast odd shadows about the hall, over pictures of historical wizard wars and tapestries that hung along the walls.

Taking a deep breath to calm his nervous stomach Draco knocked strongly agains the door.

"Enter." The snake like hiss that responded made his skin crawl, but he did as it instructed.

Pushing the surprisingly light weight door open Draco found his father dressed in his too familiar Death Eater's robes, minus the hood and mask, standing head bowed next to a tall snake of a man, dressed in black. The Dark Lord's lipless face twisted into an expression of excitement, if not pure insanity, when he saw the young man.

Draco bowed low to his father's master, dropping to one knee, as the knot in his stomach returned. The sudden wave of agonizing pain that overcame him was enough to make him cry out, every nerve in his boy lit up like dry twigs on fire. It only lasted a few seconds but once it ended the young man found himself laying on the floor, his breath coming in shot gasps that did little to satisfy his burning lungs.

"Stand up!" the monster ordered, his voice hard but pleased.

Draco forced his shaking legs to move under him and with the help of his vibrating hands he rose to his feet. Again he was hit with a silent wave of torture and again his knees buckled beneath him. It was a harder fall this time but as molecule in his body screamed to loudly for him to notice. This time lasted longer and his body twitched on the ground out of his control as his throat went raw from the stain of his screams.

This time when the curse was lifted the pain continued only dulling slightly as seconds passed, making it imposable to obey the command to rise that followed.

"Stand!" The Dark Lord hissed again, glaring down at the boy.

Sucking in pained breathes through clenched teeth Draco managed to coordinate his body. Slowly he regained his bearings, standing again. He ignored the protests his aching body made, looking up at the Dark Lord.

"Draco Malfoy." A twisted smile contorted his mouth. "Do you know who I am?"

fear swam in the boys eyes as he thought about the question. What was the right answer to that? This was the monster from his childhood nightmares, his father's master, the darkest and strongest wizard to ever live. What was the answer he wanted?

"My lord," Draco breathed, prying that it was a good enough answer.

The mad man's smile didn't waver. "Are you ready to swear to that?"

"Yes," Draco breathed again, not daring to look the snake in the eyes.

Draco saw the quick flick of the Dark Lord's wand and tensed expecting another wave of pain. Not until he heard the whimpering did he see what the man had done. A girl, close to his own age, lay curled up on the plush rug in front of a large over stuffed armchair. She was shaking, her clothes were ripped and stained with dirt, her brunet hair was tangled with leafs and fell over her bloody, swollen and tear streaked face. She might have been pretty Draco thought, the knot in his stomach tighter than ever.

"Kill her," the monster hissed.

A.N: Sorry I really hate the first part of this chapter. In case you couldn't tell I don't really like writing for Harry so don't expect to see much from him. I f anyone wants me to post more please let me know 'cause if you don't I'll probably just keep writing for myself and stop posting. :P

P.S: Reviews always welcome :D


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